First Dance

You fought the fight in me

You chased me down and finished the race

I was blind but now I see

Jesus You kept the faith in me 

"EMPTY and BEAUTIFUL"- Matt Maher

Well, the day has been set...January 10th is the date I become a Postulant. 

I am not sad nor am I anxious. I am ready.

Matt Maher said it best in the lyrics above from the song "Empty and Beautiful," You chased me down and finished the race...end of story.  And I surrender. I am on my knees and I am no longer fighting. He has pursued me since I was a little girl and I accept His invitation to come closer to His throne and listen to that "still small voice" that whispers His unconditional love for me. 

You know how couples choose a song for their first dance? Hunger by Kathryn Scott is what I choose for my first dance with Christ on  January 10, 2009:

I'm falling on my knees

Offering all of me

Jesus you're all 

This heart is living for

God Will Provide/ St.Therese of Lisieux

Updated Timeline:

• 2.5 Months- move to Washington, DC
• 2 Months- move to SC to celebrate the holidays with my family
• 2 Days- 2 out 3 furry children go to their new mommy
• 3 Days-move in with a gracious friend who is "storing me" for 2 months
• 5 Days-load my possessions into a pod

Level of Stress: off the chart
Sleep Habits: Sleep? What's Sleep?
Grace from Heaven to "Keep on Keepin' On?:" there isn't an ocean big enough to contain it


I have been spending time every day with Jesus in the Tabernacle. I pray a lot, listen for that still small voice, and I read...currently Saint Therese of Lisieux: The Story of a Soul


And just when I think that God cannot shower anymore grace upon me I read the following: Yet God has made me so that when once I love, I love for ever. (please see My Love Language post for importance). I had to giggle. What peace I found in knowing that the Little Flower, a Doctor of the Church, is as passionate about those that she loves as I am. And in that moment I found such comfort to know that love transends all time and space and no matter where I am or where those whom I love are... our love will reach one another. Just like the love of Jesus on the Cross.


St. Therese of Lisieux pray for us and may we continue to learn and apply your "little ways" to our daily lives.

My Love Language

I read a book many years ago called The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapmen. The premise of the book is that each of us feels loved by experiencing love in one of the following 5 ways:

1. Words of Affirmation
2. Quality Time
3. Receiving Gifts
4. Acts of Service
5. Physical Touch

My "love language" is Quality Time...I feel closest to my friends and loved ones when we are together. We don't even have to talk. In fact I enjoy sitting next to those that are closest to my heart in mass, sharing in the beauty of our faith.

So, it occurred to me today as I was driving home from work that maybe, because my love language is quality time, that it might be the reason why I have become the insecure person that I have turned into these last 10 days.  That I have tried to fill every moment with being with my closest friends and have asked a million times for reassurance that they will stay in touch. The circumstances before me will force my love language of  Quality Time to morph into a new love language of which I am not sure of yet.

So I continued to ponder, meditate, which ever you choose to call it, that maybe this is what the 12 apostles went through as the circumstances with their beloved teacher changed.  That they had to shift their love language as the accessibility to our Lord changed. I am sure that it was a shock to have Jesus in the flesh and then to watch Him ascend into heaven after his death and resurrection, and then He was no longer available in the flesh but in the Spirit. 

I know that we have some friends are for a season, and the thought of that makes my heart hurt. But if the Apostles can adjust the way that the felt loved by their friend and savior Jesus, than surely I can do the same with my friends. I can't say that there won't be more tears or more need for reassurance. But I can say that once again I rely on the example of the saints to give me the courage to be molded by our Father into what He would have me be...even if it hurts.

Naked As a Jay Bird

I have struggled my whole life with my physical appearance. I have been on a diet from the day I was born....when I was skinny, I wasn't skinny and I even celebrated my 20th birthday at fat camp (no I am not kidding). I was teased mercilessly by the kids in elementary school and even through high school. Someone once asked me how I still turned out so "confident" and my only answer was God. You would think my skin would be nice and thick with all of things that people have done and said but praise God I am still as tender hearted as ever.



My mom did a great job teaching me to wear clothes that flattered my assets :) and I have loved makeup since I was a little girl. I would like to think that for the most part I have kept up with what society tells us is beautiful as best I can with what I have. I enjoy clothes and feel I have my own way of expressing myself with my sense of fashion etc.



I say all this because my uniform arrived. For the next 6-9 months my wardrobe will consist of a navy mid calf skirt and a white blouse period... no makeup, no highlights, nothing. Just the canvas that God gave me. Talk about a humbling moment. Never before have I felt more vulnerable then when I looked at myself in the mirror with my mousie brown hair and unapplied face...and I will admit I had a mini melt down.

It was like there was nothing left for me to hide behind. Nothing to distort the way God made me...no Lancome, no Tiffany's, no Nordstrom's...nothing. I felt naked as a Jay Bird.



I know, I know...my beauty lies in Christ. But what a moment it was. To see myself so "different" from what I have seen myself as for the past 20-10 years and such a contrast from what the world calls beautiful.

I look like a Mormon for crying out loud!

I know once I am with the sisters, in their beautiful habits, that I will be encouraged and feel less like "a fish out of water" or at least people will be too scared to laugh at me with a bunch of nuns gathered around.

I look forward to the day that I will wear that beautiful black habit as a sign of my espousal to Christ. Until then...I will have to rely on great shoes!

I'm Starting to Panic

I started to work on my timeline today...

• 4 Months- move to Washington, DC
• 3.5 Months- move to SC to celebrate the holidays with my family
• 1.5 Months-load my possessions into a pod and give my furry children to their new mommys (I burst into tears every time I think about this)

I am starting to panic. My chest is tight and I don't know where to begin to get things done. 

I feel exhausted of all decision making capabilities...

Although I am looking forward to the freedom of owning less, how do you choose what to store and what to take?

Do I take the crochet blanket that my mother made when I was a baby or do I take the quilt that was made for me when I graduated high school? If I take both is that excess? 

Do I take the Marine Corp K-Bar that was given to me when I moved from Beaufort or do I take MOTH 2 (Man of the House) that was given to me by my roommate Brooke to protect me (She has MOTH 1).  If I take both am I a military crazed, big knife carrying lunatic?

How many photos can I take? Can I take some of my Hibel paintings as well as Ode to Sarah made by my dear friend Natalie (taking Ode to Sarah is not a question it is merely can I take Hibels with me too)?

I have been told to come with as little as possible...how do you do that? 

These are the decisions that I just can't make now. 

I know that it may seem trivial but I feel paralyzed right now...somewhere between moderate stress and a panic attack.

I am experiencing a rude awakening of how dependent I am on things...

God is stretching me...pushing me. I am OK with that, it hurts, but I am OK!

Really? Now?

Have you ever noticed that as soon as you become "unavilable..." from out of no where boys start flirting with you?

You know telling you how great you look or noticing that you wear pink chucks and that they like that? Or asking you out on dates etc...

Where have you been for the past 8 years when dating was on the agenda?

Really? Now?

10 Reasons Why Being a Beaufort,SC Girl Rocks!

It occurred to me today that my blog was getting WAY too serious and probably boring the "bejesus" out of people. So, I decided I would do a "Top Ten" list on some of my favorite subjects...Today's topic?

"Top 10 Reasons Why Being a Beaufort, SC Girl Rocks"

10. The South Carolina State Flag- Our flag is awesome! It doesn't offend anyone or send them into a tizzy. In fact, I think the pride that South Carolinian's have for their flag is unlike any in the US. I have at least 3 pairs of flip flops with the "Palmetto Moon" flag on them not to mention the accessories...I prefer the above pink and green but any color will do, except orange- GO GAMECOCKS!.

9. Frogmore Stew- this is a delicious concoction of shrimp, corn, smoked sausage, and potatoes. It is also known as "Lowcountry Boil." Now, you put this little number out with a bucket of beer and you have yourself one grade A classy get together...especially the part where you pour the stew directly on the table and eat with your hands. Only in SC can you do that and still be a "Flower of the South."

8. Humidity- I know people think that it is hot here in "Hotlanta" but it is a sauna out in Beaufort and the best part is you don't EVER have to pay for a facial...you just step outside and wallah instant steamer...very good for getting those pesky blackheads!

7. Charleston Steve's- although this term has the word "Charleston" in is description it is a universal identifier of a certain type of southern man. A Charleston Steve is someone who wears khaki shorts with a button down shirt (tucked in the front and untucked in the back...kind of like the mullet of the dress shirt world) and one of those belts that have ships, or the SC flag...you get the drift. And they ALWAYS have their sunglasses around their neck attached by a Croakie. They are genuinely nice guys who have an easy going outlook on life not too dissimilar to Matthew McConaughey (call me).

6. Seersucker Suites- There is nothing better than going to church on Sunday mornings in Beaufort, SC at St. Helen's Episcopal Church (yes, I know I am Catholic now but I wasn't then) and seeing the lovely older southern gentlemen in their Seersucker Suites. You just want to sit and have a glass of sweet tea with them. Now I realize for you Yankees out there Seersucker may be a foreign term...but Google it, buy one...you are sure to snag a nice Southern Girl with one of those.

5. Bless Her Heart- now I hope they don't take away my "Southern License" for telling this one but there is something in the way that you can tell someone some unfortunate news about anything ex. their new haircut or new outfit and by simply adding the phrase "bless their heart" on the end it doesn't sound like an insult, it sounds like you have true sympathy for them...FYI, if someone says "Bless Her Pea Pickin' Heart" that is soooooo not good, that is like 10 times more of an insult than a plan old "Bless Her Heart." Try it out...let me know how it goes.

4. Bloody Mary's- no Sunday in Beaufort is complete with out a Bloody Mary at brunch on the porch overlooking the inter-coastal waterway. Some call it beautiful, I call it heaven.

3. Shagging- no not that, get your mind out of the gutter. Shagging, the dance. Although I do not know how to shag (it doesn't work well when you have English parents...ha ha ha) I love the music and the time that the Shag Dance represents when things were slower and simpler.

2. The Beach- sun, fruity drinks...need I say more?

1. Flip Flops-I know you are shocked...I believe that you can wear flip flops year round with any outfit except when it snows (unless you are that good than kudos to you) and with any outfit.

Can I Really Make A Difference

My heart broke today when I read the article about the Soldier who was made famous by this photo, PFC Joseph Dwyer (read the article and you will understand). We've all seen this picture in media and even on those "forward this on for the troops" emails.

PFC Dwyer died June 28th from "huffing" aerosols. He had PTSD and I suppose (only suppose) that he was tired of fighting the nightmare in his head that never ended...even when he was awake and this was a way to find freedom.

Although I have never seen combat and will NEVER understand what our service men/women go through as they decompress from the war upon their return home, I do know what no hope does to you.

My own family struggled to understand what was going on in my head as I recovered from my own illness, how the "sickness" almost won. There are no words, and the best analogy I could come up with is when someone is drowning in the movies they fight and fight and fight to stay above the water, but then there is that point. That point where they can't fight anymore and they slowly and somewhat peacefully sink the bottom and die. That is what "no hope" feels like. Like death is better than life and you just don't have the strength to go on.

I wonder sometimes if I was allowed to suffer as I did to gain a glimpse into the war of the mind, that my time of utter despair, darkness upon darkness will somehow allow me to love these wounded warriors for Christ. If that is the case, I praise God for the beauty that He brought forth from the ashes.

But as I read further in the article this Soldier's family and friends tried to get him help in the both the military and civilian world with no avail. The military would point at the civilian world and the civilian world would point right back at the military, while in the meantime the clock is running out of time.

Can I beat that system? Do I have scissors big and sharp enough to cut the bureaucratic red tape? Do I have enough perseverance to push the system until it breaks allowing the healing waters to flow in and provide the care that is needed and deserved? Can the love that lives in my heart and the desire to be Christ to others bring down the walls that have been built up?

I can only assume that PFC Dwyer was tired of fighting his living hell, the war that followed him here to the US, and that he felt his only hope was to sink to the bottom. I don't know if someone was Christ to him as he fought to stay afloat or in his final hour as he decided to sink. I don't know if I could have made a difference in his life. I do know, however, that the system failed him and that is not acceptable and in fact it is abominable. I get angry when I think about those who are suffering in the mind like this. I pray that this anger is the driving force that will allow me to push the envelope, to "rock the boat" a little bit...or a lot.

Dear Heavenly Father,

You know the torments of those who suffer from PTSD- both their secret torments and the obvious. We pray today for a perfect cure for all who suffer from this illness. Comfort the afflicted and show them your love and compassion and especially send them a speedy, perfect cure.

St. Michael the Archangel defend them against the enemy at work.

In Jesus' Name, Amen.

My Thoughts on the Election

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It's Here...20-10

Well, tomorrow is the big day...I am going to be 30! Agggggh! I can't believe it. It seems just yesterday I was 10 years old and attending my first New Kids on the Block concert (Danny call me!).

I think what I am most apprehensive (I am not sure if that is the write word but lets go with that for now) about is the future, not the past. I have experienced life and tried a lot of things...most good but not always. I feel as though God has spared me from a lot of heart ache...not all but most.

I've experienced physical intimacy, partied like a rock star, had my nose pierced, got a tattoo, been engaged, had my heart broken, loved with out receiving the love in return, grieved lost friends, and noted missed opportunities. I don't feel I have any should haves or could haves. Pretty good for 30 huh?

I have lived such a full life for my previous 30 years I can't wrap my brain around the next 30 years. I hope to shake things up, be radical for Christ, and love His children with reckless abandonment. I hope to get dirty holding the hands of the suffering and those who have been forgotten by society. These are things I hope for but what does God hope for?

I have a list of things that I would like to accomplish before I die (not that it is anytime soon but you have to have some point of reference for when the game is over).

1. Meet New Kids on the Block...yep I am serious so if you know Danny, Donnie, Joe, Jon, or Jordan hook a sista' up (no pun intended)
2. Fly in an F-18...I am thinking I might have to save the universe to make this happen but a girls gotta dream big right?
3. See a NASCAR race...this opportunity was thrown in my lap but do to a scheduling conflict I was not able to get this one crossed off, hopefully I will get a second chance.
4. Go to a Honky Tonk...it is the GRITS in me (Girls Raised In The South...get it?)
5. See a baby born
6. Get a second tattoo (I know...scandalous)

God is so good and merciful. I look at this life that He has given me and although most of the time I see the tapestry from the back, and it is a bloody mess, every once in a while He shows me a glimpse of the front which is colorful , intricate, and full of beauty.

I look forward with apprehension to the future plans that He has laid out for me. The book of Jeremiah says, "For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." I believe it and claim it!

Happy 4th of July

My love for the military began at a very early age, 1986 to be exact, when I watched "Top Gun" for the first time. My heart was taken and my destination set. I was going to be the first female pilot to fly at Top Gun. Well, I never did get tall enough to make it to "Top Gun" but to this day I can quote that movie front to back.

Fast forward twenty something years to the present time and my love for our men and women in uniform is going strong. I am honored to call many Sailors, Soldiers, and Marines friends...you could even say I am a little defensive of them and their job protecting us.

In case you didn't know, our great nation has a volunteer military. What does that mean? That means that it is not mandatory for all men and women to serve for a specified time when they turn 18. This means that when there is a natural disaster and the National Guard is called in to fill sandbags to prevent flooding they VOLUNTEER to serve. That means that when planes are hijacked and plowed into buildings and fields the men and women who respond VOLUNTEER. That means that when politicians, weather Democratic or Republican, sign a bill declaring war those that are deployed are VOLUNTEERS.

What does that mean to you? I am so glad that you asked! That means you don't have to fill sandbags, respond to an attack on our city, or fly half way around the world to fight a war unless you feel called to do so. That means that as long as people volunteer to serve in our military you don't have to do it by law.

Members of Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, KS have been known to protest at the funerals of our brave men and women who have been killed in Iraq/Afghanistan. In Berkeley, CA there is an on going dispute between the residents and the United States Marine Corp recruitment center.

The Westboro Baptist Church protesters have become such a problem protesting at military funerals that the Patriot Guard Riders are often called upon to escort the bodies of our fallen heroes.

The anti-military folks in CA have hit, spat upon, and intimidated not only the men and women who attempt to enlist in the military but those who stand in support of their enlistment.

My point is this: weather you support the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan is inconsequential to supporting our men and women in uniform. Because of them and the sacrifice they and their families make you are able to oppose the wars and verbalize that opposition. Because of them you are not required by law to enlist for a designated time of service. If you feel that the war is unjustified or that the reason we are there are not valid anymore than write to your congressman, the president, march on Washington. But DO NOT attack, verbally or physically, the men and women who make it possible for you to protest without repercussion.

Next time you see a service man/woman or a veteran, shake their hand and thank them for protecting your rights. They didn't have to do it, they volunteered.

Happy 4th of July and God Bless our VOLUNTEER Military!

Peter, Paul and Chesty

I would like to preface this entry with the following: I have had this blog for almost a year and this will be my first entry. I never knew what to right about or if what I had to say was of any interest to others. I have, however, been encouraged by my dear friend Natalie "to get blogging girl." Thanks Nat...I am an all systems go!

Due to the path that I find myself on I often find that I put myself in a category that allows me little room for error. I am supposed to be stronger and tougher than everyone else...kind of like Marines only in the spiritual world-ooorah!

There are many things that I struggle with on a pretty regular bases. I am open about some of them-thank you Tracy. But there are a few things that I struggle with and only openly discuss in the confessional-is that an oxymoron?

This Saturday I went to confession and after stating my sins as the good Catholic that I am, I proceeded to tell the priest that I am not supposed to struggle like this. How am I going to do the work of God for his church if I can't beat these sins (so to speak). How fitting, the priest would tell me, that I should make such a statement of "being tough, stronger than falling to sin" on the eve of the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul...isn't God great?

Saint Peter and Saint Paul are, what I consider to be, two of the most important men of our faith. But yet, they were just as weak and woosy as I am.

Saint Paul was a great persecutor of the Church and her people. It was only upon being struck blind that his heart was fully converted and he followed the path of God. Although I have never "persecuted" the Church or her people it was only at the point in which I lost everything, like Paul, including the will to live that my life was truly Gods. When I was saved from myself I was given the greatest freedom. It was no longer up to me but up to God...and I am good with that :) In that gift of freedom I am able to follow Christ where ever He leads. It is no longer about what others think of me but how I can love them right where they are as Christ would will me to.

Saint Peter...I am most like Saint Peter. The heart is there and I try so hard but seem to fail every time. In the garden, while Christ prayed in his most human state for the cup to pass from His lips but in the end for the ultimate will of the Father in Heaven, Peter slept. How many times have I slept through something God was trying to teach me, or while in prayer for someone in my little "black book?" More importantly, Saint Peter denied our Lord three times in Christ's darkest hour. Every time I sin, weather big or small (in my measure only) I deny Christ. BUT- like Peter, Christ gives me the opportunity to love Him, to tend for and feed His sheep. What grace, what mercy!

I will struggle all the days of my life until God calls me to the other side of heaven. Maybe my Marine Corp friends are the ones who taught me that you have to be tougher and stronger-thank you Devil Dogs! But I am comforted to know that even when I am not tougher and stronger and I am more like Saints Peter and Paul then Chesty Puller I am able to humbly enter the confessional and receive guidance to help me become tougher, stronger and the grace for a fresh start to do so.

Saints Peter and Paul-Pray for us!